


Darkest Sanctuary

by cherryflesh



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: BlackIce, Dubious Consent, Fear Play, Goldenfrost, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Sexual Content, somebody please help Jack Frost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:26:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4160373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryflesh/pseuds/cherryflesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bunnymund has done something horrible to Jack, and Jack is fleeing. Cue Pitch, who has his own reasons to grant Jack sancuary in his lair. What did Bunny do? What does Pitch want?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stepping into the shadows

_Something ugly this way comes_

_Through my fingers sliding inside_

_All these blessings all these burns_

_I'm godless underneath your cover_

_Search for pleasure search for pain_

_In this world now I am undying_

_I unfurl my flag my nation helpless_

_Black Black Heart – David Usher_

 

It had taken him twelve long months to recover from the humiliating defeat at the hands of the Guardians. Twelve long months to get his night mares back under control. He had kept a low profile during his time, moving silently through shadow to shadow across the world, feeding on fear and terror where he found it, nurtured it when he could and was now every bit as powerful as when he challenged the Guardians. With the possible exception for the night mares, which he once had in thousands; he had found it best to stay out of Sandy’s business.

Big cities were useless. Too much infernal electricity and light to chase away every shadow, too much hysterical noise to drown out the subtle creaking of floor boards or dragging of nails across the wall. Small towns and villages were the way to go.

Pitch despised the Guardians, even more than before. And he _loathed_ Jack Frost, who had spat on his offer of friendship. Feeling the sting of rejection once again, he snarled at a passing night mare, who promptly dissipated in fright. The black sand whirled and he rubbed it between his fingers thoughtfully.

Then…

He tilted his head back, drawing deep breaths. _Delicious._

A strong scent of fear trickled down through the ground above. That particular door to his lair had been sealed, but he did not have to rely on anything as crude as openings to get out or in. Grinning broadly, he slipped into the shadows to investigate.

 

* * *

 

 

_You don’t want to race a rabbit, mate._

Bunnymund’s words shot through Jack’s memory like shards of ice as he ran. His body ached horribly in places he’d rather not think about. Heart pounding against his ribcage like it was trying to escape, he jumped from tree branch to tree branch. Under his blue hoodie his bruised chest was damp with sweat and he desperately tried to collect his thoughts. _Think! Think! I have to find a good wind, have to hide… Antarctica, maybe. Bunny hates the cold…_

And he had to hide _now_ before Bunnymund would wake up and look for him. Jack couldn’t face him now. Not after… what if he wanted to…

Panic welled up at the very thought and he had to stop and lean against the rough bark of a tree. He clutched his staff close, feeling slightly safer with his weapon at hand.

”My my… if it isn’t Jack Frost.” Jack whirled around at the sound of the silky voice and instinctively attacked in a burst of ice and snow. Pitch evaded easily, disappeared and reappeared on a branch further up. He made no move to counter attack and Jack backed up against the tree branch, panting.

”What has scared the mighty Jack so badly, I wonder?” Pitch said softly and Jack narrowed his eyes. He knew better than listening to Pitch, he really did.

”I thought I told you to leave me alone”, he snapped. _Can he see it on me? Can he tell?_

”That you did, that you did…” Pitch sank in to the darkness between the branches, and when he spoke next it was behind Jack. ”But _I_ am not the one trespassing on _your_ territory. So you will have to excuse my curiosity.”

Jack turned so quickly he lost his balance and nearly dropped his staff. He gave an undignified hiccup of fright and held onto his weapon so tightly his pale knuckles turned white. Pitch smiled at him, a shark’s smile of hunger and pointy teeth.

”So easily startled. I wonder…”

Jack’s attention was firmly on Pitch and when he was suddenly nudged from behind he turned his head sharply. And Pitch reached out and snatched his wand. Before Jack could react Pitch had tossed it to the night mare who caught the wand between her sharp teeth and quickly ascended. A moment later they were alone, and a numbing fear spread through Jack’s body. Froze him to the spot. _What just happened?_ He stared at Pitch, who leaned casually against the tree, watching him lazily. Only his golden eyes betrayed how excited he was.

”Oh, you are in trouble now, aren’t you?” The purring voice raked over Jack’s nerves. Without his staff, he couldn’t fly, couldn’t defend himself. _He’ll find me. He’ll find me and he’ll…_

”Who _are_ you afraid of?” Pitch’s voice had lost most of the velvety softness and the Boogieman was now openly fascinated. ”Here I am, about to tear you down and torment you with your worst fears, and you are thinking of somebody else. Frankly, I am a bit insulted.”

Any other day there would have been a witty retort at the tip of his tongue, but this wasn’t any other day. This was a day when his pants was still sticking to the back of his legs in damp places.

So he said nothing, and Pitch’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted.

”Jack? Jack, are you there?” Bunnymund’s familiar voice was faint in the distance. If he picked up on Jack’s presence he could be there in a matter of seconds. Jack found it difficult to breathe. ”I got to talk to you”, Bunnymund continued, sounding annoyed.

Fear was like a lead weight on him, pinning his feet to the branch his was standing on. He stared out in the distance to were Bunnymund’s voice had come from and could feel himself starting to sweat.

”The _rabbit_?” Pitch asked incredulously and Jack wanted to beg him to be quiet. It was bad enough that he had lost his staff, that Pitch was even there… he did not want the Boogieman to watch what would happen if Bunnymund caught up with Jack.

”Beat you up, did he?” Pitch continued lazily. ”The rabbit always had a temper on him.”

”Yes”, Jack breathed, grateful of Pitch’s conclusion. ”It… uh.. it really hurt.” He was an awful liar and he avoided the narrowed yellow eyes boring into him. Apparently Pitch thought so too.

Twigs snapped and leaves rustled, and Jack could sense Bunnymund drawing closer. _No!_ Acting on pure fear-driven impulse, he turned to Pitch, who looked bored.

”If you’re not going to put up a decent fight…” he began but Jack interrupted him.

”Hide me”, he said quickly and Pitch bored expression turned into shock, then amusement.

”Did I hear you correctly? Did you just-”

” _Please.”_

Pitch stared at him and Jack stared right back. Every second of tense silence brought Bunnymund closer to them and waves of terror rolling higher and higher in Jack’s chest. Suddenly Pitch smiled and stepped back, holding his robe open with his right hand. Around him darkness billowed.

”Come, then.” Pitch soft voice sent shivers across Jack’s neck, made his skin tingle. There was no time left; Jack stepped forward and felt the ground give away as the shadows swallowed him whole. Pitch himself lingered for just a moment longer, watching smugly as Bunnymund stumbled into the clearing below. Wild-eyed and dishevelled, whiskers twitching.

In one fluid motion Pitch melted into the shadows, his smile the last thing to fade, like a feral chesire grin.

 


	2. First feeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch and Jack are negotiating the terms of their agreement, which means a few revelations and a whole lot of fear.

Without the immediate threat bearing down on him, Jack was able to think more clearly. He had been in Pitch’s lair before; the place was enormous, a dark labyrinth of passageways, rooms and bridges, some of them leading nowhere. A place to get lost. When Pitch stepped out of the shadows Jack turned to face him.

”I want my staff back”, he said firmly.

”In a minute”, Pitch replied, circling him. ”First we will negotiate the terms of your stay.”

”My stay”, Jack repeated with numb lips. He had not planned further than getting away from Bunny. Turning the option over in his mind, he found that he would not mind a place to retreat, a place that Bunny could not get access to. North, Tooth and Sandy was out of the question; they would not hide him from Bunny unless he explained the situation to them. The possibility that they might not even believe him felt like a sinking burn in his chest. Why would they believe him when they had known Bunny for so long? And Jack had no realm, lair or haven of his own, preferring to ride the winds as he liked and having no real need for a base.

Until now.

”I’m willing to grant you sanctuary. The rabbit won’t find you here.” The Nightmare King’s smile was smooth, even friendly, but the sharp teeth made it look sinister. Jack didn’t take his eyes off him as Pitch circled him like a shark.

”In exchange for what?” Jack asked, ever suspicious. Pitch had fooled him before, more than once manipulated him, and although Jack would deny it to his last breath the towering frame of the Boogeyman intimidated him. Especially now, when any lingering traces of attraction provoked a surge of fear and panic.

”All you have to give me in return is your fear.” Pitch voice was soft, and Jack tried to think clearly, tried to resist the soothing words and his own reaction to them. _Remember who you’re talking to!_ But it sounded so reasonable, as if by giving Pitch his fear the Nightmare King would relieve him of his burden, and Jack would no longer have to deal with the sickening feeling of guilt-mingled terror and nausea that rose in him every time that awful memory resurfaced. He knew that it was too good to be true; no way it was so easy to get rid of the fear. But perhaps it really cost him nothing to let Pitch feed on it? Jack was scared anyway, he had plenty of currency in return for a safe hideout.

”Fine.” Jack said, licking his dry lips. ”I accept, on one condition.”

”Ah yes? What might that be?” Pitch smug expression didn’t waver.

”That I can end the agreement and leave any time I choose to.” Jack watched Pitch’s face for any sign at all that he had made a good deal, thwarted whatever cunning plan Pitch had in mind. But the Boogeyman only shrugged.

”Naturally. Oh, excellent, Jack…” Pitch waved his hand and a night mare trotted forward with Jack’s staff between her teeth. Huffing, she let go and disappeared into the shadows when Jack took it, grasping it tightly.

”Okay then”, Jack said, feeling a little safer with his weapon back. When Pitch advanced on him the staff glowed a vibrant blue in reaction to his turbulent feelings, prepared to blast Pitch if necessary.

”Do you mind putting that away for a moment? As much as I appreciate your stark terror of me, I would much prefer to feed without you trying to turn me into a popsicle.” Jack gave an automatic snort at the mention of ”stark terror”. Pitch sounded so damn _reasonable._ As if he had not just asked Jack to put away his only mean of protection. Still, a deal was a deal, so Jack slowly leaned his staff against the stone wall, letting go of it with the resigned air of a drowning man letting go of his lifeline.

”There”, Pitch murmured, and now he was awfully close, his shadows enveloping Jack. Their chilly darkness felt surprisingly comfortable against his uncharacteristically feverish skin. The long grey fingers touched his shoulders, traced his neck and fear erupted in him like pus from an infected wound. He could hear a sharp intake of breath from Pitch before he was pulled under by the memory of sharp teeth against his skin, claws pawing against his hip and thighs, humiliating pain that shattered him from the inside out…

When he came to his senses he was sitting on the floor not far from where he was standing before, propped up against the wall. It was surprisingly soft and he realized that it was the shadows at this back that cushioned him from the cold, hard stone. Pitch was standing a few feet away, examining his nails.

”If this is how you feed, the deal’s off”, Jack said hoarsely and Pitch turned to him.

”Oh, I can hardly take the credit for that”, he replied. ”I am fairly discreet; _that_ was a panic attack.” He regarded Jack with intent curiosity until Jack looked away, skin crawling with unease.

”Oh”, he said weakly.

”It must have been some beating”, the Boogeyman said conversationally. When Jack said nothing he smiled. ”Don’t want to talk about it, hm? No matter. You can’t hide from me, Jack. You should know that by now.”

Jack pulled his knees up to his chest, refusing to look up. He remembered all too well how Pitch had plucked his worst fear from him, shining a highlight on it and used it to twist him around until he nearly lost it all. He could feel those yellow eyes on him, fishing…

”Ah…” the Nightmare King breathed. ”You have a new fear. Much worse than not being believed in. So much worse. Oh Jack… ” Sharp teeth glinted through the darkness in a horrible smile. ”You’re a mess, aren’t you.”

Jack shot to his feet, steadying himself on his staff. Then he walked off through a randomly chosen alcove, intent on nothing else than putting some distance between him and Pitch. He already questioned his decision to stay. Would he be able to handle being taken apart every time Pitch needed to feed?

 ”Be seeing you, Jack”, came the soft voice behind him, and he walked faster, dread curling in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

Pitch let Jack go, for now. The frost sprite had given him so much fear, his shadows were teeming with it. He understood now what had happened. After all, it was not the first time Pitch had fed on fear that left that particular aftertaste. Now and then he encountered it across the world and every time he neglected to send more night mares into the child’s dreams. Instead he made sure the adults in the house woke up screaming. He may be the King of Nightmares but he was not entirely without sympathy, whatever the Guardians thought of him.

And one of them was apparently not as wholesome and good as he had led everyone to believe. Some small part of Pitch - that he was loathe to acknowledge himself – felt a shred of pity for the centuries old, lonely boy who had longed so for friendship. _You should have chosen me,_ he thought darkly. _I would not have betrayed you like that._ But he knew that he had done little to inspire Jack’s trust; he should have been more restrained. Should have slipped away and bided his time at the rejection, not knock him unconscious and leave him powerless in that icy wasteland.

He ran his long fingers through the thick, black lengths of his hair and marveled at his luck. To have been given a second chance to shape Jack into the companion he yearned for. It would take careful manipulation, but he was confident that he would succeed…

…in time.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo that was chapter two. Whaddya think? Any views, opinions? Please share, my muse will be ever so grateful! :)


	3. Caught in the cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack ventures outside, where Bunnymund catches up with him. Will Pitch reach them in time?

Hours, perhaps days, had passed since Pitch fed on him; he really had no sense of time passing so deep below the surface. It was probably shorter than it felt, he decided and watched another cluster of shadows warily, dreading the gleam of yellow eyes in the dark. At first he had been content to hide but the lack of wind and freedom itched inside him. He needed that more than he feared Bunny – at least now, even though he could not bear thinking about his tormentor finding him.

Despite his best efforts, Jack had been unable to find a way out of Pitch’s lair, and was beginning to fear the worst.

”Pitch!” he yelled, hating that his voice had the shrill pitch of panic rather than outrage.

”Yes, Jack?” Pitch’s measured voice sounded from the same shadows Jack had been watching just a moment ago and the Guardian jumped back, startled. A moment later the Nightmare King himself stepped into the dim light, trailing shadows behind him like a cloak.

”There’s no way out. You’ve locked me in here, haven’t you?” Jack pointed his staff at the grey chest accusingly. Pitch tutted.

”Oh Jack… it is easier to think of me as the villain, is it not? Even when you know better.”

Jack lowered his staff, doubt eating away at his resolve. He _did_ know better. Still…

”Just because I was mistaken about Bunny doesn’t mean I was mistaken about you”, he said firmly and was surprised to see the grey lips stretch into a grin.

”Hah, yes, well done”, Pitch chuckled. ”But I have no interest in shackling you to the Underworld. Go then, if that is what you wish.” With a wave of his hand the darkness above them parted in one small place and Jack felt a faint breeze from outside. Still, he hesitated, paced nervously and glanced at Pitch who seemed to sense his worry. ”You are welcome back, of course – or do you wish to end our agreement?” Pitch asked mildly.

”No”, Jack muttered, turning his face to the tempting wind. He tried to quell the rising dread inside at the very thought of not being able to come back. ”How do I return?”

”I don’t leave the door open anymore. Call out for me, and I will hear you, and come fetch you.”

Jack nodded, and rose to meet the wind.

  


* * *

  


Pitch watched Jack disappear and closed the opening after him. It had taken every ounce of self-control to let Jack go, but he knew it would be worth it. To gain Jack’s trust he had to respect the young Guardian’s boundaries – every one of them. Jack’s vulnerability was alluring, but if Pitch was to enjoy it to its fullest he had to be careful now.   


Putting his hands behind his back, he wandered back into the shadows. After all, he had to protect his investment.

  


* * *

  


The cold winds streamed around him and he used them effortlessly to carry himself forward. Laughter bubbled up and he let it out, a sound of triumph and happiness. _This_ was his purpose, what he was created for. In this particular part of the world summer had just yielded to autumn, and he dropped down on a small town, speeding from rooftop to rooftop. Whatever he tapped his staff with immediately sported beautiful frost flowers.

Suddenly he landed wrong, just a little bit heavy and his bruised chest ached, effectively smothering the happiness inside. Desperate to feel it again, he made his way to the ground, and the big pond in the middle of a large square. The statue in the middle was of a bearded, grim-looking man in a toga lifting a curvy woman who stretched her hands towards the sky in her attempts to get away. Clear water streamed from their mouths and eyes. Jack dangled from her granite arm, tapping the surface of the water with his staff. Ice spread, smooth and creaking, from side to side at the pond. He didn’t have to use his snowflakes to inspire anyone to use it; within half a minute the first child made an appearance and was quickly followed by others. The sound of their laughter and merry voices rekindled the happiness inside him and he laughed too, perched on top of the statue and watching the play below. Being visible was something that he had to make a serious effort for, as not enough children believed in him to make him permanently visible, but he was content to watch them unseen.   


He felt it a moment before he saw it. A faint tremor through the statue that he realized came from the ground. In a circle not too far away from them the ground fell, creating a tunnel…

Jack quickly slid down the statue’s back to hide. _He found me, how could he have found me already?_

Sure enough, Bunny’s soft paws made little sound despite his heavy steps, but Jack could sense that he was there.

”Jack?” came the gruff voice. ”Where’re you hidin’? Come on out.” There was a pause, during which Jack hardly dared to breathe. He clutched his staff close, reminding himself that he was powerful in his own right, and was hardly in the vulnerable position that he had been a couple of nights ago.

”This is your handiwork. I know you’re here.” Annoyance had turned to anger and Jack’s hands shook. He considered calling for Pitch but pressed his lips together, refusing to call for the Boogeyman at the slightest hint of trouble. He could do this, he could!   


Only, what he really needed to do was to put some distance between Bunny and himself.

”Are you hidin’ behind the bloody statue?”

Cover blown, Jack jumped up, caught a wind and speeded away as fast as he could. _He’ll never catch me_ , he thought wildly. _Never!_ But as he flew over the roof tops, he caught sight of his tormentor, easily keeping pace with him below. The next moment something hard hit his hand and his staff was knocked away, sending him plummeting to the nearest roof. He could hear the clatter of his staff before he felt himself grabbed and slammed down on his back.

”Now”, Bunnymund growled, thin lips pulled away in a snarl. ”Let’s talk.”

The heavy rabbit’s foot was big enough to cover Jack’s chest and belly as it pressed him into the ground, and panic was spreading through his body like cold fire.

”Get off me!” he screamed, but it was more like a whimper. ”Don’t!”

Bunny did not back away, instead bent down closer and petted him awkwardly.

”Calm down, not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk to you.” There was a hint of hesitation in Bunny’s voice, but he was still angry. ”Don’t look at me like that, like ’m some kind of monster!”

Jack said nothing, only stared up at him in mute horror while he fought not to faint again. He could barely breathe with that heavy paw on top of him…

”You wanted it! I know you did.” Bunny stared down at him, and obviously not finding what he was looking for he swatted him lightly with his paw. ”Go on, say it. Say it!” he hissed. When Jack said nothing the paw on his head gentled and stroked him almost tenderly. ”I know I was… rough. I can be different. I can be gentle with you.”

Jack felt like he was going to throw up. Somehow the tenderness was infinitely worse and the fear and anger tightened like a knot in his chest. Without thinking of anything else than getting away, he turned his head and sunk his teeth into Bunny’s paw. When Bunny howled in pain and backed up a couple of steps, Jack was instantly on his feet sprinting away, heading towards the shadowed corner…

”Pitch”, he whispered under his breath. ”Please come get me, please…”

Something hard hit him between the shoulder blades and knocked him flat on his face. Dizzy, he scrambled to his feet and kept running. _He’s not coming!_

”PITCH!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. Behind him he could feel Bunny’s body heat, hear the rasping breath as he drew closer. Moments from now he would be pinned down, and then…

Jack jumped, flinging himself into the shadows, hoping against all reason that he would not hit the brick wall.

Almost. He hit something hard and cold, but it put his arms around him and the rest of the world fell away.

 

* * *

  
 

Pitch gently released Jack as soon as they were safe in Pitch’s lair. To his surprise Jack did not let go, but still had his hands fisted in Pitch’s robes, drawing deep breaths. Pitch said nothing, did nothing as Jack slowly calmed down.   


”My staff…” he whispered hoarsely, still without letting go. On cue he heard the wooden clatter against stone and the clip-clop of the nightmare trotting away.

”They can be very considerate”, Pitch said mildly. ”When told to be”, he added and was pleased to see the corners of Jack’s mouth quirk up in a brief smile. Slowly the iron grip on his robe loosened and Jack let go and stepped away, rubbing his face with a shaking hand.

”What took you so long..?” Jack muttered and Pitch had to quell a smile.

”I couldn’t hear you”, he lied. ”Say my name loud and clear next time.” In truth, he had heard Jack’s fervent whisper and deliberately waited for him to scream it. Jack screaming his name, desperately and full of fear, was exquisite, a treasure. It had taken a great deal of self-control to hold back, to not come to Jack’s aid and slaughter that pesky rabbit once and for all. But Jack needed to realize that he needed Pitch. ”I saved you, didn’t I?”

”Yeah. Yeah, you did.” Jack’s voice was weary but there was a hint of wonder there that did not escape Pitch, who turned away so that Jack could not see the look on his face; he suspected he looked as smug as he felt.

He had held back for more than one reason, the second being curious what the rabbit would say. Knowing no details of the incident, he hungered for more information, to have his suspicions confirmed. The rabbit was behaving astonishingly bad for a Guardian. Unbalanced and delusional. Had he talked himself into believing that Jack had wanted whatever happened to him? How very human. Boring and predictable. Unless there was an even darker layer... The possibility intrigued Pitch. Oh, how he wanted to torment the rabbit. But first he needed more information about the incident itself. More ammunition. And for that he needed Jack’s trust.

”I have something for you”, he said, and Jack looked up, an edge of fear in his blue eyes. _Did I echo something the rabbit told him?_ Pitch wondered. _Like running a finger over thin scar tissue…_ He allowed a small smile to grace his lips, keeping one hand behind his back as he walked away, gesturing for Jack to follow. After some hesitation Jack did, but picked up his staff from the floor on the way.

A few winding corridors and staircases later, most of them curiously leading up, the air was dry and cold. Pitch stopped in front of a large double door with intricate markings and large iron handles. Pressing them both down he pulled them open with a flourish and gestured to the inside.

”I thought you might like a room of your very own”, Pitch said softly. ”This would be yours, if you want it.”

 

* * *

 

Jack stepped into the room, taking in the room with open mouth and wide eyes. He refused to look at the large bed in an alcove further away, but the walls was covered with running water, as if he was surrounded but discreet waterfalls, water filling the square ponds edging the walls. The roof was an elaborate window, on which gusts of winds moved snow and ice in patterns.

 ”It’s… amazing”, he whispered, reaching out to the water and calling it forward with a gesture, freezing it midair in an twisting shape of ice that slowly began to melt. It was not sub-zero temperature in there, but it was pleasant to him. ”Can I..?” he began and trailed off, looking at the ceiling.

”Yes. That window opens.” Pitch pointed at one of them and Jack nodded. Then he turned to Pitch and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.

”Thank you. I really mean it”, he said quietly.

”Don’t mention it”, Pitch said and closed the door behind him as he left. Jack went to the bed and flopped down on it, letting himself feel the exhaustion and slowly letting go of his fear, for now. He wondered when Pitch would need to feed next, and if he had been mistaken about Pitch after all. Perhaps he had judged him too harshly, there in the beginning. Jack fell asleep wondering when he had begun to find Pitch smell soothing. Faintly gun powder-ish, like the smell of cold, grey stones, with a smoky undertone... it smelled like home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pitch is treading very lightly, I know. ;)
> 
> I toy with the idea of publishing the horrible incident, written out in full, between Jack and Bunnymund. As a short, standalone chapter, so the reader who would rather not read such a scene could skip it if he/she prefers. What do you guys think? It might be interesting from a story point of view, or would you rather have it only hinted at?


	4. Jack's new fear

Jack’s smooth features twitched and twisted in distress, little signs that sleep was not pleasant for him. Pitch watched silently but did not interfere. Not yet.

”N-no… hnn… nno-ohh…” Jack’s voice was brittle, so far from the firm defiance that he normally throws at Pitch.

The room is cold and dark, the only illumination came from the Siberian daylight outside the window, muted through the snow. Pitch was standing at the foot of the bed, his hands resting behind his back as he watched his guest being tortured by nightmares that is not his own doing. He was curious and faintly disturbed by the rise of emotions within himself when he thought of Jack. He felt… concerned. To complicate matters further he had thoroughly enjoyed holding Jack in his arms. The rush of hunger had been unexpected, but not as unexpected as the simmering desire he could feel in Jack’s fear. The mix was chaotic and tainted, but he could tell that Jack was not entirely up to speed with his own wants and needs. The furtive glances, the way he clung to Pitch when calming down, as if the Bogeyman was his lifeline… even so, if Pitch was to attempt to broach the subject honestly he had no doubt that Jack would refuse him yet again, perhaps even be spooked enough to leave the safety of Pitch’s lair.

No, it would require careful manipulation on his part. Sooner or later, he had no doubt that he would be able to coax Jack into willing submission. He had to cultivate a perfect trust between them, if there was to be any chance of Jack satisfying the Nightmare King’s darker appetites.

Throwing the writhing body on the bed a longing look, Pitch melted into the shadows.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack screamed, but no sound emerged. When the furry paws turned him over, he tried desperately to crawl away, only to be hauled back so harshly that his hoodie was pulled up. The damp grass was cold against his naked belly. His pants were pulled down in jerky movements until he was bare and vulnerable. 

The worst part was not the terror of realization, or the horrible pain that would soon follow. The worst was the shattered hope, the broken trust. The stinging disappointment that _he_ would…

”Jack.”

The silky voice was so familiar and brought with it a flurry of emotions. Unrelated to this dark corner of Jack’s mind, it nonetheless struck a cord of recognition. Sharp claws pulled him apart and prodded at his opening, and he knew, _knew_ , that in seconds he would be torn and bleeding, with a paw pushing his face into the ground, scraping lips and teeth against the dirt…

”Pitch!” he choked out, terrified that this addition to his nightmare had arrived to add to the torture, but too desperate to care if there was even a slim chance of rescue.

At once the nightmare dissolved around him, wasting away as dusty ash, leaving a smooth, grey wasteland on which he was still kneeling. Panting, he stumbled to his feet, pulling up his pants and straightening his hoodie. He turned, and saw Pitch standing a few feet away, his face unreadable.

”Apologies for the intrusion”, Pitch said, giving the surrounding nothingness a wave of his hand. ”I knocked, but you did not answer. I do hope the dream I banished was not a pleasant one.”

Relief flooded Jack’s veins and he let out a breath he had not known that he held. _He didn’t see it._

”No. No, it was one of those... er… boring ones”, Jack lied and forced himself to smile.

”Glad to hear it”, Pitch said, thin lips stretching into a grin. ”Now, I’m sure you wonder what I want.” The smile became decidedly more sharp, with needle-pointed teeth that sent pinpricks of fear over Jack’s skin. ”I want to _feed._ ”

Jack couldn’t help it; he backed away, fear rising in him like a great tide. Pitch was suddenly gone and Jack turned around and around in an effort to see where he got to.

”Time to wake up.”

The whisper ghosted over the skin behind his ear and he woke up with a start, flinging himself upright with an undignified sound. He had a few precious seconds to catch his breath before there was a knock on the door. His first instinct was to pull the covers over his head and curl up in a fetal position, then he reminded himself that it was Pitch, and that he had few things to fear from him. At the moment.

When he opened the door he had his staff in a firm grip, just in case. Pitch glanced at it and sighed.

”Really, Jack?” When Jack said nothing he pursed his lips. ”May I come in?” Jack stepped aside and Pitch entered.

”You don’t have to try to scare me, you know”, Jack said, crossing his arms over his chest after leaning the staff against the wall. Pitch chuckled and skimmed his fingertips over a pattern of frost on the bed post.

”And you don’t _have_ to create ice wherever you go. But you do, because it’s who you are.”

Jack doesn’t know how to respond to that. Fear is different, he feels, but for reasons he cannot name. But it _is_ a part of Pitch, and Pitch has done good things for him. Function does not necessarily mean a good friendship. After all, he was subjected to the single most excruciating experiences of his long life while surrounded by chocolate eggs, innocence and hope. Jack dropped his gaze to the floor, momentarily overwhelmed by unease.

”You said that you- you needed to feed?” he said quietly. He could feel Pitch’s eyes on him, could sense his silent stride as he came closer. Jack expected those hands on his shoulders, almost anticipated them, but none came. He opened his eyes to see a hand outstretched as if asking for his.

”I will hold you like before”, Pitch said, voice soft and soothing. ”You are _teeming_ with fear, Jack. Remember that very little of it is of _me_.”

Jack nodded, still uncertain, but took the outstretched hand. Gently, Pitch pulled him close and held him there as shadows rose around them both.

The closeness triggered the memories all over again and Jack shuddered. Without thinking he leaned his forehead against the grey chest, drawing shaking breaths. Anxiety crawled inside his skin, spider-legged and dreadful. Amongst all of it, between the cold sweat and hyperventilation, came a shiver of lust. A whisper of need that seemed to grow stronger simply by being discovered. Jack was suddenly very aware of the strong hands holding him, the warm body standing so close… Horrifying possibilities unfolded in his mind, and fear erupted.

 

* * *

 

 

Pitch always knew anyone’s fears. With hardly any effort he could fish out the worst ones, playing them like musical instruments to make people dance to his tune. When Jack’s fear took an unexpected turn he instantly knew and quickly released him when he started to squirm.

He studied the frost sprite’s new fear in detail, as it was about him. Jack feared his own desires, first and foremost. He feared Pitch too, and was horrified to discover that he wanted him. He was deadly afraid that Pitch would hurt him like Bunnymund did.

”Get out of my head!” Jack yelled and backed away. Pitch held up his hands in a weaponless gesture.

”You’re telegraphing your fears, Jack. You can hardly blame me for picking them up”, Pitch replied. Not strictly true, but true enough.

”Leave me alone. Please.” Jack’s words echoed another situation, so very similar but oh so different. Pitch would not make the same mistake again.

”Very well”, he replied and walked towards the door. In the doorway he turned to look at Jack over his shoulder. ”Just remember who has the power to banish your bad dreams… should you need it.”

Then Pitch closed the door behind him and walked away. He had not expected Jack to realize his desires so quickly. It was unfortunate, as it gave Pitch little time to build trust between them. Luckily, he still seemed oblivious to Pitch’s inclinations, or he would have fled already.

  

* * *

 

 

Jack sank down to the floor, hiding his face in his hands. What was _wrong_ with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your wonderful comments and feedback! :))))
> 
> What do you think? Down the road this story will be very smutty. It just takes them a little while to get there. ;)


	5. Picking up the pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pitch and Jack can't keep their hands of each other. You know what would make a complicated situation even more complicated? Smooching. That's right.

Pitch had seen Jack’s dream; of course he had. He had waited for Jack to call for him spontaneously, but when it did not happen he intervened anyway. As it turned out, he had to admit that he was now too invested in what happened to his Jack.

Yes, _his._

Pitch can not recall a time when he felt possessive about another being. There was a certain amount of greed in that feeling, peppered with anger at the loss of control. He found it vaguely disconcerting. The rabbit had violated Jack once; he wondered how many times he had done so again in Jack’s dreams. Likely not many, as the incident was only a few nights ago, and even a young spirit such as Jack would not need much sleep. Still… He was loath to permit any harm, waking or sleeping, to befall Jack in Pitch’s own lair.

What would Jack do now, tangled up in unwanted desires as he was? The mere hint of it had been delicious to Pitch, who never hesitated to indulge in pleasures. Over the centuries, he had met a few spirits who were willing to… play. But he had never been attached to them. And neither of them had shared Jack’s experience, not to a degree that required any additional patience or care on Pitch’s part. He knew that he would get nowhere with Jack without infinite amounts of both.

 

* * *

 

 

_I can’t stay._

Jack was staring up at the big glass panes in the roof, watching the wind arrange and rearrange to snow. Misery spread through his veins like a poison until every limb felt leaden with resignation. To leave this perfect sanctuary to the inevitable horrors outside… and just because his own twisted desires had gotten the better of him for a moment.

_I’m sick._

He could still feel it, like a whisper of fingertips across his skin. A longing to be closer, to feel those sharp teeth dragging across his throat without tearing it. Some dark corner of his mind wanted even that; to be torn apart and devoured until there was nothing left of him.

He closed his eyes in despair. _Sick…_

Clutching his staff tightly, he reminded himself that he was far from helpless outside. Next time Bunnymund showed up, Jack would not hesitate to attack instead of run. He licked his lips, steeling himself.

”Pitch!” he called, and within moments he picked up a tell-tale slither of shadows from a dark corner and Pitch’s yellow eyes gleamed as he stepped out into the dim light.

”Yes?” the Bogeyman said, his face unreadable.

”I’m leaving”, Jack told him without any preamble or offering of explanation. He figured that Pitch knew, no need to make it even more awkward. There was a flash of something in Pitch’s eyes, but Jack couldn’t tell what it was.

”I see. Are you ready to meet the dangers outside, then?” Pitch said, glancing up at the howling winds beating against the magically enforced glass.

”I have to be.” Jack’s grip on his staff tightened until his knuckles turned white.

”Ah, but you’re still afraid”, Pitch whispered. ”You are more terrified of yourself than of the rabbit.”

Jack took a step back, as if the silky voice was a physical threat he could retreat from.

”I wonder…” Pitch continued, flexing his long fingers to examine his nails briefly. ”Do you imagine that you can outrun your longings if you put as much distance between us as possible?” He looked at Jack sharply, pinning him with his gaze like a needle.

”Shut up”, Jack said quietly, eyes wide and vulnerable.

”Do you consider it worse to enjoy my touch than to suffer at the hands of one who betrayed you?” Pitch voice had risen from a whisper, every word sharply pronounced like the crack of a whip. Jack flinched and dropped his gaze to the floor, blinking fervently to clear his blurring eyesight.

”Please, stop talking”, he whispered, feeling like he could shatter to pieces at any moment. _I have to get out of here._

”One more thing.” Pitch’s voice was low and dangerous as he advanced on Jack and suddenly Jack found himself with an arm around his back, pulled up close to Pitch. He looked up at the grey face, with its sharp features and hungry stare, and for just a second a flutter of nervousness softened the spike of fear. Then Pitch kissed him.

Pitch kissed him.

_Pitch… he…_ Jack’s world was reeling, narrowing until the only thing the could comprehend was the sensation of firm lips pressed against his own, surprisingly warm in the same way seemingly cold ash can be burning hot. A odds with the anger Jack detected in Pitch’s voice, the kiss was not harsh or aggressive; Pitch moved his lips quite tenderly against Jack’s, again and again without breaking contact, carefully nipping at his bottom lip once Jack began to respond.

And Jack did respond. Instinctively he parted his lips against Pitch’s, who wasted no time tracing the opening with a wet tongue, coaxing him to open up wider. Jack’s shaking hands landed on Pitch’s chest, inching his fingertips just inside the edge of the black robe until he could splay his hands over he muscles there. The height of the other forced him to crane his neck, but thankfully Pitch hand soon came to support the back of his head. The height difference made him feel crowded, overwhelmed and alarm stirred again.

_What if he won’t stop?_

Some part of him knew he would. That he would let go if Jack tried to break free. Then again, the same could be said about Bunnymund… Jack had _known_ then too, _known_ that the other would never hurt him. And he had been horribly, irreversibly wrong. That nagging doubt, the sliver of distrust, spread through his veins like poison and tainted the lust that burned brighter with every kiss.

Jack fought it like a drowning man would fight the pull of the deep, but the poisonous memories shut his body down as surely as the ice cold water had once did.

His half-open mouth, soft and pliant under Pitch, closed and stiffened into a thin line as he tensed up. Pitch retreated immediately, leaning back to give him space. Not quite letting go, but loosening his grip so that Jack could easily slip free. Within Jack, chaos pulled him apart, swung him back and forth between fear and arousal, distrust and trust. He took his hands away from Pitch’s chest and crossed them tightly over his own, balling his hands into fists and pressing them into his ribcage as if to keep himself from seeking further contact with the Boogeyman.

They watched each other in silence. One steady and calculating, the other nervously darting from side to side, only meeting the other’s gaze in fleeting glances.

”I have to go”, Jack whispered. He dared a look at Pitch’s face and could have sworn he saw a look of disappointment, painful and bitter. A second later it was gone.

”I won’t stop you”, Pitch replied, his voice so soft it felt like a lingering caress. Jack wanted to lean into it. ”But when you return…” Jack looked up sharply and Pitch smiled down at him, his sharp-toothed Cheshire grin. ”And Jack, you _will_ return… I will be happy to guide you through _all_ the wicked pleasures you secretly yearn for.”

The words, so low and intimate, sent a shiver of fear and anticipation through Jack. He quickly backed away several steps, swallowing hard. Pitch did not follow, but watched his every move, yellow eyes alight with cruel playfulness. The staff was on the floor at his feet, and Jack realized he must have dropped it. He picked it up swiftly, and it crackled in the response to his turbulent emotions. Summoning his powers, he jumped quickly to the window in the ceiling and opened it, uncaring of the snow that fell into the room. A moment later he was gone, hastening away on the strong Siberian winds.

Pitch was still standing in Jack’s room, looking up into the ceiling, where cold winds tried to claw its way into the room to fill it with snow and ice. He was pleased that their little dance had picked up the pace, and even more so since it was Jack’s doing. This one time, Pitch would do something wholly uncharacteristically for him; he would follow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for your sweet comments! They are gold for my muse. :))))
> 
> Soooo, this is moving faster than I thought! Pitch is playing his cards well, but will he be able to keep his darker impulses back indefinitely..? Not that I think he would hurt Jack intentionally (well, not too much) at this point, but it's a very fine line to walk for them both. Hum hum humm.... Ummm... yeah, please tell me what you think! :)


	6. Wind take me home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunnymund calls Pitch out. Pitch is not one to refuse an invitation.

Pitch stayed in Jack’s room for quite awhile, in case Jack would come back sooner than expected. He didn’t, and Pitch convinced himself that he did not care. Toying with Jack was an amusement, nothing more. Something to pass the time between the hard work of re-establishing himself as a force to be reckoned with while keeping a low enough profile not to alert the Guardians.

”Pitch!”

Bunnymund’s raspy voice sounded from the outskirts of his mind, like it always did when somebody called his name outside his lair.

”Pitch, you ruddy coward! Come out and face me!”

Unknown to the Nightmare King, the eclipses of his eyes flared in the dark, but he was surprised the surge of hatred in his chest, far outweighing the usual annoyance that he usually felt towards the pesky rabbit. Sneering, he stepped into the shadows…

… and reappeared in the shadows of the trees close to where the door to his lair had once been. Bunnymund gave the wooden remains of the bed a vicious kick, breathing hard.

”Yes?” Pitch said, sounding bored when in reality he was almost as intrigued as he was enraged. What was the rabbit thinking, coming here? The answer came to him when Bunnymund advanced on him with murder in his eyes.

”You got him, don’t you? Let him go!” Bunnymund snarled, pointing accusingly at Pitch, who laughed and melted into the shadows.

”Oh, isn’t this _precious_ ”, he replied with a cruel grin. ” _You_ want to play the hero. How do you expect this to end, rabbit? You defeat the evil Bogeyman and Jack will fall into your arms?” The rabbit cringed and Pitch imagined that beneath the grey fur his skin was bright red in anger and embarrassment. ”I hate to burst your bubble but _you’re_ the villain in this piece.”

”Shut your mouth, Pitch!” Bunnymund roared and threw the boomerang at him. The weapon turned smoothly in the air, but Pitch evaded it easily and tutted.

”Temper, temper… is that why you hurt him? Couldn’t control yourself?” He kept moving from shadow to shadow, his own circling the frantic bunny. All of his frustration and worry he poured into the words like venom. He wanted the rabbit to _crawl_ for what he had done.

 

* * *

 

It took Jack quite some time to locate Bunnymund, and then some more to convince himself that a confrontation would be a good idea. But when he realized where Bunny was going he remained carefully hidden, wondering if Pitch would answer the call.

He _really_ didn’t want Bunny to talk to Pitch. There was no reason for this other than the fact that he just didn’t want Pitch to know any more than he already did about what happened. That kiss… he didn’t want to want Pitch that way, but he felt like Pitch had poured gasoline over his thoughts and was afraid that if he gave into another kiss it would be like flicking a match on them. Consuming and out of control.

_Is that what I want?_ He didn’t know what he wanted and he didn’t trust Pitch to help him find that out. How could he? He could sympathize with the Nightmare King, even respect him, but to trust someone so blatantly manipulative? Only a complete idiot would do that.

He listened closely as Pitch taunted Bunny, finding some satisfaction in the cutting words. Bunny growled his frustration, quickly resorting to outright name-calling in response.

_Can’t take the truth, huh?_

”You want him for yourself, is that it? If you hurt him…” Bunnymund raged, and Jack found himself holding his breath waiting for Pitch’s response.

”Oh, yes…” Pitch snarled, and dark shadow-fingers stretched across the ground towards Bunnymund, who retreated a few steps. ”I’m into this really kinky thing, you’ve probably never heard about it… it’s called _consensual sex._ ”

Jack had to clap his hand over his mouth to mute the gasp that threatened to escape. It died in his mouth when Bunnymund attacked, letting his boomerang fly at the same time as he charged Pitch. This time the Bogeyman did not duck or slip into the shadows, but met the attack, deflecting the boomerang with a sweep of his scythe. The circled one another, attacked again and again, and Jack watched in amazement as Pitch forced Bunnymund to retreat, step by step.

He wondered what Pitch used to be. _Who_ Pitch used to be, back when he was human. For some reason he had assumed that Pitch used to be some sort of librarian… or storyteller… but judging by the smooth, measured attacks he had been neither.

”Let him go!” Bunnymund insisted, backing another step. Pitch pulled back his lips in a hiss.

”I’m not keeping him, rabbit. He comes and goes as he wishes”, he replied sharply.

”Liar! I want to hear that from his own mouth!”

”Perhaps you would… if he still spoke to you. But he doesn’t, does he?” Pitch ceased his attacks and leaned against his scythe. Bunnymund made no further attempts to fight him either. They were both slightly out of breath. ”In fact, he seemed to go to great lengths to avoid you. To get away from you.” Pitch spoke softly now, and Jack had to hold his breath to be able to hear him. ”I wonder why. What happened?”

Jack bit his lip. Oh, Pitch was good. Asking what happened rather than accusing him of doing something. Taking the guilt out of the equation – for now. _Please don’t tell him…_

”Nothing. Nothing happened. We were just fooling around”, Bunnymund said gruffly. From his place in the bushes Jack could see them both perfectly from the side. Pitch didn’t move when Bunny spoke, just waited until the other gave a half-hearted shrug. ”Look, he must’ve changed his mind. He regrets what we did, is all.”

Tears welled up and Jack pressed his lips together hard to keep from yelling out his protests. _You bastard! How can you say that?_ Even so, confusion and guilt flared up. Was it his own fault, in some small way? He _had_ initiated the hug, and hadn’t protested when Bunny had pressed him into the warm grass… but he had not wanted what happened next. He had screamed out his protests, he had begged and cried and struggled… no, Bunny could not believe what he was now telling Pitch. _No. No way._ A scalding hot tear trickled down his cold cheek. _Pitch won’t believe him._

”I see”, Pitch said, voice still soft. ”Wanted it, did he?”

”Yeah! Yeah, he did”, Bunnymund said, and there was an almost grateful tone to his voice now, as if he was relieved that Pitch appeared to understand him. ”Hey…” Exasperated sigh, followed by a nervous chuckle. ” _He_ came on to _me_.”

Jack’s fingers dug into the grass. He wished he hadn’t settled down to eavesdrop in the first place; this was too painful to listen to. _Don’t believe him! It wasn’t like that!_

”Ah, I understand. He enjoyed himself, then?” Pitch sounded so relaxed, as if they were talking about the weather.

For some reason his words, his whole attitude, started to hurt more than Bunnymund’s. Somewhere along the line, he had started to consider Pitch as a friend, of sorts. His opinion mattered, and right now they made Jack’s heart break.

”Bit painful for him, maybe…” Bunny muttered. ”First time, and all.”

It took all Jack’s self-control not to vomit right there in the grass, or get up and run away as fast and as far away as he could. He stared at them, at Pitch. The Bogeyman had not moved a muscle.

”This is none of your business”, Bunny continued more harshly. ”What’s your angle, Pitch? What do you want?”

Jack held his breath, staring at the tall, lean shape of Pitch. His profile was sharp, unreadable. Then he smiled, thin lips stretching over sharp teeth.

”Why, _him_ of course”, he said casually, as if it was the stupidest question he had ever heard. ”All of him.”

 

* * *

 

A moment after he had finished speaking, there was a surge of fear somewhere to his right, and Pitch turned sharply and narrowed his eyes at the trees and bushes.

His eyes locked on Jack’s and they stared at each other. Jack was leaning on his staff, his blue eyes wide and filled with fear… and tears? Yes, his eyes were red-rimmed. Pitch thought fast; how long had he been there? How much had he heard?

_Not good. He will misunderstand._

Instinctively he took a step forward, reaching out to him with both hands palms-up – unarmed and inviting.

”Jack…” he began, for once struggling to find the words. Before he could say anything else, Bunnymund interrupted him.

”There you are! Come here, we need to talk. Let’s g-” His words were sharply cut off when Pitch rounded on him with glare that sent most people running in terror. From every shadow dark ribbons shot out and wrapped tightly around the rabbit, silencing him effectively.

” _Shut your mouth”,_ Pitch hissed venomously. He advanced on Bunnymund, who stared at him in anger that was swiftly replaced by fear. The long ears flattened against his skull. Pitch brought his face close, until there was mere inches between their eyes. ”I _know_ you hurt Jack. I know it was intentional, and I know you like it more than you’re ashamed of it. _Understand that you will not get the chance to hurt him again._ ”

The shadows released Bunnymund, who stumbled back and glared at Pitch.

”I’ll come back with North, and Sandy and Tooth”, he spat. ”We’ll save Jack.”

”Oh, I don’t think you will”, Pitch said with a scornful smile. ”Because you are so very _afraid_ that they will find out what you did…”

To that Bunnymund had no reply, but his hateful glare told Pitch that this was far from over. The rabbit stomped the ground once and disappeared into the hole that formed. A second later it was gone, and Pitch turned. Jack was already gone, and he was not surprised; he had a sinking feeling that he would not return.

Why would he? All he had seen was Pitch’s attempt to wheedle more information out of the rabbit. Not seeing, of course, the many awful ways Pitch ended the corrupt Guardian’s life in his imagination… he shuddered to think what the conversation must have sounded like to Jack. Silently, he summoned his night mares, dreading now that Bunnymund might find Jack before he did.

From the shadows came the huffing breaths and eager scraping of hooves. Glowing eyes regarded him, waiting for his command.

”Find him”, he said. ”Search every shadow until you have.” He paused, looking wistfully into the sky with just a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. ”He favors cold places.”

His expression darkened and he turned to the waiting night mares.

”Go!” he said sharply. In one fluid motion, they melted into the shadows and were gone.

 

* * *

 

Jack was speeding over the ocean, icy winds carrying him easily. The caress felt like the touch of old friends, familiar and comforting. The two grey even surfaces stretched undisturbed from horizon to horizon and met in a thin line in the middle. It was the emptiness of it all, he decided, the vast space, that added to the serenity and calmed his chaotic mind.

Now, when the wind had long since turned his tears to icy pearls and wiped them from his face, and with the comforting distance, he could finally revisit the incident a few hours ago.

Then, it had felt like Pitch agreed with Bunny. But had he? He had asked questions, but neither agreed or disagreed with the answers. His heart ached painfully and Jack sighed; he supposed that it was the lack of outrage that hurt the most. That Pitch never even questioned Bunny’s lies. But had he, though? Other than the little barb about consensual sex, Pitch hadn’t said much. Or..?

Jack chewed on his lip, considering Pitch’s words from every angle, considering what he had told him before, both in the guise of an enemy and later as some sort of host.

_He is so manipulative. Who knows what he really thinks?_

Jack hesitated, then turned it around in his mind. Instead of analyzing Pitch’s words and actions and trying to figure out the end game, he looked at the one thing Pitch had said that had sent Jack running.

_”Why, him of course. All of him.”_

At the moment, Jack had been overcome by fear at the simple statement, feelings for Pitch and memories of Bunny criss-crossing through his heart. From the context, he had assumed it was purely physical. What if it wasn’t?

_What if I’m his end game?_

Maybe not solely, and maybe not even completely consciously, but what if he told the truth at that moment? He tried to see it from Pitch perspective, with that goal in mind and with his main tools being fear and manipulation. He examined Pitch’s actions, concluding that he had at least two times opted for saving Jack rather than reaping more fear from him. From that perspective, the kiss was a bold move, probably prompted by Jack’s decision to leave. Pitch must have been desperate to give Jack a taste of what they could share, with time… and for all his frustration, he had been tender. _Always_ backing off at the slightest hint of resistance. _Always._

The more he thought about it, the more he came to an undeniable conclusion; in a creature such as Pitch, manipulation did not necessarily exclude caring.

And Jack? He had been unable to stop thinking about that kiss. He was tired of running and unless forced to he was not particularly up for fighting Bunny either. Tired of fighting his own feelings and fears, of resisting. It would be so easy, so comforting to let Pitch take control, but he couldn’t.

Not yet. Finding comfort in his own resolve, he hastened along the winds, knowing where to go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your thoughtful comments! Would you believe me if I told you that smutty times are not very far away? ANYway, please comment and let me know what you think! It means a lot to me! :)


	7. light in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally some smut! That's all the summary I'm going to give you.

When Pitch returned to his lair, he was in a dark mood. Not only had the night mares failed to locate Jack, Pitch had been unable to find him as well. He had a horrible, sinking feeling that he would never see Jack again, and the thought filled him with more regret than he would like to admit.

He looked out over the empty halls, and amidst all the vast, dark space he had never felt so alone. It was the contrast that made it obvious; during the past few days when Jack had stayed there, Pitch had felt _alive_. For the first time in centuries, it had mattered little to him what the rugrats of the world believed in. To partake in Jack’s fears, even to soothe them, had been enough.

The loss weighed on him; he bowed his head and rubbed a hand over his face as if to rid himself of the grief.

_Had I but known…_ but how could he have known what effect Jack would have on him? Thoughts of revenge and punishment seemed so alien now. Had he really once plotted to lock the boy in his lair, to torment him with his worst fears and punish him for siding with the accursed Guardians? Yes. He had once relished the thought, fantasized about it hungrily until he had stumbled upon the boy. Already broken.

In the beginning it had been a delightful game, to find out the how and when of what had torn Jack into ribbons of pain and terror. When the game turned serious Pitch could not say. Indeed, he scarcely knew that he cared this much until Jack was gone.

_Did the rabbit get you, Jack?_

He thought not. If he had, Jack would have called for Pitch, and Pitch would have heard him. Saved him.

He hated the nagging doubt whispering that Jack would never call his name again. Why should he trust Pitch, the Nightmare King who fed on his fears and had casual chats with his tormentor?

Unable to help himself, he walked through the shadows and emerged in Jack’s room, hungry for any lingering hints of his presence. The frozen water, the open window… _open_ … ? 

”Hi, Pitch.”

He turned so quickly that he almost lost his balance and stared at the white-haired boy sitting on the bed, prepped up against the pillows with his hands behind his head. His pale lips twisted briefly in a small, mischievous grin. Pitch could only stare; fury and relief warred in him.

”Were you here the whole time?” he asked incredulously, making an effort to keep the anger out of his voice.

”Yeah. Took you long enough”, Jack replied, an image of nonchalance. Pitch’s upper lip twitched but he managed to reign in his anger. _How dare you make me worry, you little brat!_ Jack must have sensed his anger because he placed his hands in his lap and plucked nervously at the hem of his hoodie.

”I needed to think”, he said, and Pitch narrowed his eyes at the unwanted swell of sympathy he felt in response. Jack glanced up at him. ”You… you said some really hurtful things.”

Pitch began to pace angrily, guilt flaring at the memory. Guilt! Since when did he feel guilty about anything?

”Like you…” Jack paused and took a deep breath. ”Like you agreed with him. Believed him”, he continued hesitantly and Pitch resented it. Resented the whole situation but mostly his own rising dread that he would not be able to convince Jack to stay. He needed to bare his heart, and he had no idea how.

”Come now, Jack”, he huffed. ”I was manipulating him, and you know it.” 

”Like you manipulated me?” Jack asked softly and Pitch stared at him.

”Wh- _YES!_ ” he yelled, throwing his hands out in a gesture as if he was giving up. ”I manipulated you! Have you any idea how bloody _hard_ I worked to get you to trust me?” He ran his fingers through his spiky, black hair and sneered. ”You say it as if manipulating you was an awful thing to do, but you felt better for it!”

”I guess I did, huh…” Jack said with a small smile that went unnoticed to Pitch.

”You Guardians are so obsessed with _honesty_ ”, Pitch snarled, spitting out the last word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. ”Believe it or not, honesty can do more damage than a bit of manipulation. But no, it’s all about the truth, isn’t it. Well, the _truth_ is that your precious friends are every bit as manipulative as I am! Granted, children are not that difficult, but-”

 

* * *

 

During his rant Jack had scooted down the bed and got to his feet. Pitch was so caught up in his defensive monologue that he barely seemed to register that Jack was approaching him. Jack on his side stored away Pitch’s words in his memory for now, intent on pondering on them later; right now he wanted something else. He now knew that Pitch cared for him, had worried about him while he was gone.

Pitch’s eyes widened almost comically when Jack took a firm hold of his robes and pulled him down into a kiss, effectively cutting Pitch off mid-sentence. It was not a deep kiss, just a firm press of lips to lips. Golden eyes closed for a moment and Jack could feel the tension leaving the other and both their lips softened. Strong, sinewy arms wrapped around him and pressed him close, and he was relieved to feel not even a trickle of fear in the embrace.

”I don’t mind that you try to manipulate me now and then”, Jack whispered against the dark lips. ”But do it with the truth. Don’t lie to me.” He knew Pitch would understand what he meant by that. After all, the Bogeyman was well versed in all aspects and nuances of manipulation.

”I vow it”, was the simple answer. Jack nodded and rested his face against the smooth grey skin of Pitch’s chest as the other straightened up. A hand settled on the back of Jack’s head, long fingers tangled in white hair. They stood like that for awhile, and Jack basked in the feeling of rightness. Did not wonder or question but simply accepted.

Jack turned his head and brushed his lips against the grey skin. The fingers in his hair twitched and clenched and he shivered at the slight pull. Emboldened by Pitch’s reaction, he let the tip of his tongue slip out to taste. In combination with his scent it conjured up images of a smooth stone surface, cold, hard and with the subtle underlying scent of gunpowder. Of secrets, dark places and danger. Pitch breath hissed between his teeth, and he took a firmer hold of Jack’s hair and pulled his head back to look up at him.

 

* * *

 

Arousal was evident in the boy’s face, in his half-lidded eyes and parted lips. Pitch enjoyed the sight for a moment, savored the vulnerability. Bold little frost sprite, _licking_ his chest... playing with fire and trusting that it would not burn him.

Wondering how far Jack’s trust extended, Pitch bent and captured Jack’s lips in a kiss that soon became a hungry exchange of licks and nips, as if they were trying to eat each other. Pitch maneuvered them to the bed, and Jack stretched out on his back when Pitch gave him a gentle push. Jack’s mischievous grin flashed up at him, and something clenched and ached in Pitch’s chest as he climbed unto the bed, shrugging off his robes. Pants stayed on; the time was not yet ripe for that. Instead he tugged lightly at the strings on Jack’s hoodie.

”Time to get rid of this, don’t you think?” he said suggestively, and Jack’s pale skin reddened as he complied and awkwardly squirmed out of the thick, blue material. He didn’t immediately sink down again, but kept himself supported on his elbows, just short of sitting up. His eyes, a moment ago colored by apprehension at the nudity, was now otherwise engaged in watching Pitch. They studied each other’s half-naked bodies for a few long moments, each lost in their own thoughts and desires.

Jack’s thin frame was a product of his time, with not much food and no doubt more mischief than hard labor. As a result, his body was smooth and even, with hardly any defined muscles. Pitch wondered how old Jack had been when he died, and concluded that he whatever his age had been he was now well over 300 years old, not a teenager. Jack reached out and placed a tentative hand on Pitch’s chest, and he forgot all musings about age and bodies and bent down for another kiss. And another. And another, each time their bodies closer until they were grinding against each other. Pitch could feel the evidence of Jack’s arousal against his thigh as the sprite squirmed desperately for friction.

”That’s it…” Pitch murmured, steadying himself on his elbow so that he was looming over Jack, watching his face hungrily. He ignored his own erection for now and bent down to bite Jack’s neck lightly, teasingly, while trailing the hem of his trousers with his fingertips. Jack shivered and turned his head to give him more access, a faint blush trailing every bite. ”Let’s take these off, shall we?” Pitch whispered hoarsely against his throat, tugging lightly at his pants.

A trickle of fear echoed in his mind and he leaned back to look Jack in the face, into blue eyes tainted with apprehension and unease. Pitch carefully gentled his sharp-toothed smile and moved a hand from Jack’s trousers to place it splayed on the pale stomach, in what he hoped would be a comforting weight.

”Or you keep them on”, he said softly, encouraged by the disappointment in Jack’s eyes. ”But fair warning, this will be very… messy… ”, he continued in a sultry whisper and let his hand move down from the flat stomach to slowly caress lower… and lower… light touches close, so close but never _there._ Doubt melted away and Jack bucked his hips, straining for Pitch’s touch.

Pitch withheld it, smiling cruelly as Jack squirmed. He had half-turned towards Pitch now, burying his face against his chest.

”Pitch…” he moaned and rubbed his face against the grey skin, panting. Pitch took pity on him and finally touched him there, first slowly caressing the outline of the bulge with his knuckles, then cupping it in a firm grip. Rubbing his thumb over the tip of the swollen length. Jack’s stuttered moan was beautiful and Pitch savored it while gently massaging Jack through his trousers.

Then Jack did something unexpected; he grabbed Pitch’s hand and clumsily moved it away, pressed it to his belly with a desperate sound.

” _Please_ , I need- I-” he stuttered, and from his awkward movements Pitch realized that he tried to move his hand into his trousers, past the cloth barriers.

It would be the perfect opportunity to rid Jack of the offending material. Pitch hungered for it, for the sight of his prize naked and splayed out before him, for him to touch and play with… Pitch ignored it. _No reason to rush_ , he reminded himself and carefully slid his hand into Jack’s trousers, gratified when Jack spread his legs wide for him and choked back a sob. _In time he will be eager to receive me…_

He found Jack’s cock hard and twitching and grasped it, caressing it in slow, firm strokes while rubbing his thumb over the sensitive underside. Precum beaded and trickled down, slicking the grip until Jack’s stuttered pleas and whimpers were accompanied by obscene wet sounds. 

Jack writhed, bucked his hips…

”P-Pitch..!” he panted breathlessly and there was an urgency in his voice that could not be misunderstood. Underneath the urgency was an undertone of fear, one that Pitch could not quite place, so he held Jack’s head to his chest, let him quell his moans against him.

”Let go, Jack. It’s alright, I got you”, Pitch murmured into the unruly white hair. In his arms Jack stiffened and convulsed, his broken moans almost sending Pitch over the edge too. He licked his lips but controlled himself with difficulty, instead holding Jack through the aftermath of his intense orgasm.

Pitch pulled his hand out of Jack’s sticky trousers, and Jack trembled while catching his breath. Long, grey fingers dripped with white, and Pitch closed his eyes while licking them clean, savoring the taste while glancing down at Jack, who stared up at him with dazed look.

”Delicious”, he purred, and Jack looked away, his pale skin turning faintly pink.

”That was amazing”, Jack whispered, lips curved in a small smile. Pitch nodded and curled around him like a big, black cat. Quietly he wondered what Jack’s frame of reference was. To Pitch ”amazing” was still coming. ”Amazing” would be spending his seed deep inside Jack, after the boy had milked him dry in a screaming orgasm… the very thought made Pitch grimace and adjust himself, careful not to alert Jack to the fact that he had not found his release.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut will continue in the next chapter. As usual, I am incredibly grateful for all your comments, and I very much look forward to hear what you think! :)


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